The Honesty of Growth
by ZenithPrinciple
Summary: [Post-series] Few knew what happened to Yukishiro Enishi after the destined day, even fewer cared. Some say he died, others could not even begin to ponder his fate. But the truth is rarely simple. As the souls of the dead burden his very being, Enishi walks the path of atonement to make amends for all those he has harmed. Whether it will end in success or failure is a mystery.
1. Welcome to the Farm

**A/N: This is an idea I've been playing around with since I began to read Vinland Saga. I have a rough outline planned out but I'm not sure how often I'll be able to post chapters. I'll update as often as I can, though!**

 **Also, I know that whatever happens in the Hokkaido arc will most likely contradict this...so just view this as alternate continuity, okay?**

 **Series is dedicated to a good friend of mine, who helped out alot with ideas and such. I know you're reading this, so thank you! ^-^**

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Farm

* * *

"Well, shit…it's so fucking hot today."

If you were to tell Yukishiro Enishi ten years ago that it was his destiny to pursue agriculture, he'd laugh hysterically before punching you square in the face. Yet here he was on a particularly warm and sunny day, completely shirtless, digging up and levelling previously untouched land to make way for more crops] The only one laughing at him was probably his long-dead sister, watching over him as he clumsily navigated through his 'life'. Karma perhaps?

He thrust the hoe deep into the ground before throwing more soil over his shoulder. The owner of this land had recently decided that he could afford to increase the amount of rice he could plant at once, and wanted to cultivate more of his property. The land he owned amounted to roughly ten acres, much higher than average for farmers in this region. He was unusually wealthy, he and his sons worked on the farm with no issues. And then there was Enishi, his ever-so-valuable 'voluntary slave'. How this man had such a vast amount of land and was so well-off to the point of owning it, Enishi had no clue. He continued to plough away at the ground, levelling the soil as he underwent a sort of reflective episode.

Six years. It had been just over six whole years since his failed revenge, since time began moving for him as a certain infuriatingly self-righteous red-head with a holier-than-thou attitude would most likely proclaim proudly whilst his reverse-bladed sword met the entrance of its scabbard. Even to this day, that man was infuriating…at least to a certain degree. What Enishi hated most about him (aside from the fact he ruined his dear sister's life before taking her away from him) was that he was _right_ about a lot of things. If it weren't for him, his boldly declared ultimatum of _enough is enough Enishi_ , _it's time to end this_ , he probably would have killed himself a long time ago.

Not that he didn't _want_ to die mind you; ever since that day, since his defeat, he had wanted to believe so hard in the traditional view of seppuku and restore honour to his own name and his family's by slicing himself clean in the gut with a _nihonto_. Heck, maybe that way he could've had a chance at a reunion with his dear sister. But he was no fool, not anymore at least, and the Samurai were an elite class of complete and utter _morons_ : a single death would not make up for the lives he took and ruined, the suffering of those he was completely blind to most of his life as he navigated his way through the Shanghai underbelly, not even stopping to think of the others he had destroyed. He had killed, he had hurt, he had done irreversible damage. His long (perhaps too long) meditations in Rakuninmura with the old man had revealed to him why his sister no longer smiled and told him that he needed to actually do some good in his life, to atone for the countless sins he had committed over the years. No excuses.

But he didn't particularly feel like following the steps of his brother-in-law by offering his sword arm to anyone who needed protection for two main reasons. Firstly, he didn't want to kill or even harm anyone anymore (he hadn't the willpower to harm even a fly these days, a far cry from the respected swordsman he once was), so using a reverse-bladed sword or something equally as preposterous was simply out of the question for him. Secondly, his martial arts skills had actually declined. Since his final fight, on the island circled by sharks and mines, the damage to his ear – caused by himself mostly – had severely affected his balance. And he just couldn't be bothered to train with that in mind. So what had he been doing for the past six years?

To put it simply, he was a hobo. A travelling, homeless worker, offering his services to those who needed it. He had travelled the entire country, north to south, and worked at many places: mills, clinics and _many_ farms, receiving no pay for his labour whatsoever. All that he asked for was a place to sleep and the occasional meal to subsist with, despite many of his employers' protests. Some people really were just too kind.

The turning tide of the Meiji era had been rough on the peasant population; families across the country had struggled to pay both rent and the new taxes enforced by the government. All too often had he arrived at a farm only to be dismissed a few weeks later, his 'employers' sadly proclaiming that they couldn't afford to make ends meet that easily. They just couldn't keep him around, he didn't ask for money but he was yet another mouth to feed. In a way, Enishi pitied them., he almost wanted his brother-in-law to see the damage his precious Meiji government was doing to the peasant population. Not that he interacted much with the people he worked for anyway, maybe he was always destined to be cold no matter what happened to him.

This time, however, was different. Somehow, this particular farm had managed to actually make ends meet; Enishi had already been there for two whole months and there were no signs of him being dismissed anytime soon. The head of the family constantly boasted about his impressively high yields over the years, how he had managed to not only keep his own family well-fed but also pay his taxes, and that was on top of feeding many mouths across the lands. Really, he was delighted when Enishi showed up offering to work for free in a way, completely willing to be treated as a slave This type of man Enishi knew quite well, he had seen an abundance of them in Shanghai. He and his sons all worked on the farm day-in and day-out; two of his children were currently away with relatives, but Enishi was told they would be back soon. He just couldn't _wait_ to meet them.

Enishi leaned back to an upright position and wiped his clammy forehead and brow before running his fingers through his sweaty mane of greasy white hair. He slung the hoe over his shoulder before looking around at the dug-up and levelled soil. Not half bad for an honest day's work. He frowned. _But is this enough? Is this lifestyle enough?_ He wondered to himself, staring off into the horizon with an empty look on his face. _Will this ever be enough?_ _No, nothing will ever be enough…I'll be doing this until the day I die. I have to._

He mentally shook and decided to take in his surroundings: the bright crimson sun sat squarely on the horizon, half of its mass had disappeared into folds of unknown darkness beneath the earth; the sun's rays shot out in all directions, bathing the landscape in a rich golden-red hue. The sky, completely devoid of any clouds, took the image of the dreary sea with its endless dark dark blues and infinite expanse, threatening to swallow him up whole like a monster pursuing its prey. The slight breeze served to make short wisps of his long and unkempt white hair blow in the wind in a gentle and even somewhat rhythmic manner. It was during these times where he felt some measure of peace in his life; usually, he was either too busy working or his mind was contemplating darker, more intrusive thoughts. Thoughts he wished away countless times but came nonetheless.

His meditations were put to a halt as a cool hand was placed on his naked shoulder. He turned to see the owner of the land, Hiroshi.

"You look tired." Hiroshi pointed out, taking in the way Enishi's shoulders slouched over and how he had a certain air to him as if he severely lacked the energy to go on.

"Hiroshi-san," Enishi began, "is this enough for the day?"

Hiroshi grinned and rubbed his chin. "Yes…you've done…an admirable job. Well done. To think someone such as you could do so much in so little time, no one would guess it."

"Then am I excused for the day?"

"Yes yes, you can go. I'll send someone later on with some rice...maybe a bowl of soup, make sure to wake up early tomorrow."

Sometimes Enishi actually forgot that he was in truth the son of a Samurai, with the way he was treated. Inwardly, Enishi frowned. Outwardly, he still wore the all-too-familiar face of emptiness and slight lonely bitterness he was accustomed to wearing. "…Sure…"

His employer smirked and took his leave, arms folded neatly behind his back. Enishi glared at his retreat before turning his heel and taking strides towards the spare little house on the opposite side of the field.

As soon as he got there, he opened the rickety door with care before stretching his limbs and lobbing his tools in the corner. It was his…little slice of heaven. It was a run down little storeroom that had fallen into a state of slight misuse by the looks of it (or, they were just lazy in keeping it tidy), and the futon he was provided with was old, weary and slightly torn…but it was better than braving it on the streets or out in the wilderness. He sank down in the corner of the spare room, beginning to meditate on the crippling emptiness that dominated him in that instant. One certainly was a lonely number...it had been like that since _she_ had died.

He had of course _physically_ spent time with other people in his company after she had died, but Enishi had always felt isolated from everyone. Most people thrived off togetherness and socialisation, such things used to make Enishi feel sick to his stomach. One time, he remembered, it was enough to drive him to a murderous rage during childhood, as he cruelly slaughtered the family that saved him from death, tormented and twisted by their insultingly happy and carefree lives. They mocked him with their smiles. Nowadays it didn't have quite the same impact on his psyche, but seeing people with each other, talking, laughing and loving together, had made him yearn for the old days...when he still had his innocence as well as his whole childhood ahead of him.

Feeling hopelessly nostalgic, Enishi reached over to his other side and dug up the sole piece of property he owned, perhaps the only thing that prevented him from taking his own life during those dark and dreary days six years ago. He sat against the wall and opened the book in his hand, placing it on his lap. The elegant brushstrokes and the way in which every page was lovingly filled to the brim with vocabulary twisted his heart in an almost unbearable knot as if it were to come out of his mouth anytime soon. He flipped to a particular page near the middle of the book, glided his hand over his sister's beautiful handwriting and read quietly:

 _Enishi and I went for a walk today, we stopped by our favourite tree on top of the hill we usually go to on warm days such as this one. He found a butterfly and chased after it in a complete frenzy, then he caught it and showed to me. It was very beautiful. It reminded of how nice and sweet my little brother can be, that is the Enishi I know and love. I would be devastated if anything were to corrupt his spirit._

Enishi recalled that fragment of his memories with bittersweet clarity. It was a beautiful day; his sister's words didn't do it justice at all. He remembered how she truly smiled when the butterfly ascended from his cupped hands and flew away with such elegance. He gently shut the memoirs of his long-deceased sister, heart and mind swallowed by a tumultuous maelstrom of guilt and longing once again. It used to be so much worse; in his first days of self-reflection, he could barely read a single sentence before slamming it shut out of shame, disgust and emotional upheaval. He buried his face in his ever-so-slightly sweaty palms and sighed immensely; his mind was no longer consumed with thoughts of hate, anger and vengeance, yet he still longed for her company dearly. It has been twenty years since her limp and lifeless body fell on sheets of pale white snow, yet that particular event still felt like it happened a few days ago.

But what had pained him the most was the knowledge that he had failed her in every way, when all those years he had thought he was carrying out her will.

A knock on the door. Enishi rose from his dank little corner, striding towards the door and swinging it open. In front of him was Hiroshi's nine-year-old son…Kensei, was it?

"Um…" the boy nervously stuttered, holding a tray up to his senior, "here's some food."

Enishi gently took the tray from the shaking boy's hands and gave out a gruff "thanks" before shutting the door in front of him. In a way, the boy reminded him of himself….he even had the same hair as him when he was but a small boy growing up in Edo.

Not wanting disturbed thoughts to surge through his head, he quickly retreated back to his corner and placed his tray in front of his crossed legs. A bowl of rice and a cup of tea. So, no soup…well, he was used to subsisting on the bare minimum. He grabbed the chopsticks and went to dig in.

* * *

 _Enishi's eyes slowly opened as he took in his heavenly surroundings; he laid on his back in a lush green meadow overlooking the city of Edo, his old home. The sun stood high in the sky, shining down on the Nihon heavens with its bright and radiant warmth. The clouds glided past that grand orange globe, shielding the earth below from its rays but only for a short time, the sun would always become dominant once again._

 _He sat up and yawned, covering his agape mouth with his hand, only to realize that he was but an eight-year-old boy once again. His clothes were clean and tidy, and the locks of his hair visible to his eyes were black once more. A butterfly landed on his nose and fluttered its wings as he stared cross-eyes at it, before it took off. Enishi stood up and followed its trail, tip-toeing around the flowers and weeds. He picked up the pace and hurried to a slight sprint as he became hurried in chasing of the curious little creature. It led him further uphill to the base of an enormous tree, the butterfly began to circle around a familiar figure clad in white with raven black hair, the soothing and familiar scent of white plum blossoms filling his nostrils, their back facing him. Gasping in delight, the boy practically leapt towards this figure, who turned to face him and catch him in their tender and graceful arms. The figure began stroking his dark spiky hair as he buried his face in the folds of her kimono for comfort, before looking up at them and holding their hands._

 _"Sister!" Enishi yelped excitedly, "I had the strangest dream! Y-you and Kiyosato-sama died, my hair went white and I crossed the sea and I spent all my life trying to avenge you and…and…"_

 _But something didn't feel right._

 _"I'm sorry, little brother." She replied coldly – yet with the smallest hint of affection. He scoffed at her odd behaviour, believing it to be a joke._

 _"Huh? Sorry? What for? I'm just so happy to see you again! Aren't you happy to see me?" He beamed, but his sister still did not smile. She gently pushed him back, and her eyes – unfathomably deep with sadness and regret – looked straight into his._

 _"This isn't how things really are."_

 _Suddenly, Enishi came to notice that the bangs of his own hair had quickly faded to snow-white after she had uttered those grave words; before he could react accordingly, he felt something grasp at his feet. Thrown to the ground with a sudden thud, Enishi grimaced and groaned in pain before looking over his shoulder and realizing he was held in place by roots deep from the ground. Desiring to be free, he desperately attempted to leap back up and hold onto his dear sister for life, only for his arms to be dragged down to the ground and imprisoned in root as well. He yelled and screeched as the roots took tighter hold on him and the earth beneath him cracked open, giving way to the untold depths beneath._

 _"Sister! What-what's happening to me?!" Enishi squealed, on the verge of hysterical tears. His pathetic attempts at reaching out to her resulted in him being furthered restrained by the earth below. She merely shook her head, eyes closed._

 _"This is my fault. I should have told you…taking a life, no matter the circumstances, is never right. There not exists a single soul that deserves to die. I myself didn't realize this until it was far too late…for both of us."_

 _"Wha…?" A single tear rolled down Enishi's cheek as another root shot up from the ground and held his head in place. His now cold-blue eyes gazed at her puzzlingly and in horror._

 _"Do you feel them, little brother?" Tomoe inquired with a sorrowful yet harrowing and reproachful tone._

 _"…Feel what?"_

 _"The people you hurt. The people you killed. The souls of all those you have wronged. They're here for you, little brother...and they want justice."_

 _As she turned her back to him, rotten and decayed hands shot up from the cracked earth beneath him, wrapping themselves around his arms and legs as the roots gave way. He was slowly being dragged into his own personal hell. Enishi witnessed the figure of his sister fall over lifelessly, deep crimson on top of white kimono, never to rise again. The souls of the damned and the dead brought him down into the dark dwellings below, to the fiery hot gates of hell. Before he entered hell's mouth, Enishi held onto a cliff for dear life and was forced to look down on the souls determined to bring his soul everlasting pain._

 _Seared flesh hung off the equally charred bone, a pile of pitiful corpses all conspiring together to arise from the inferno deep down and avenge their restless spirits. Their number was limitless, a combination of those he had killed directly and unfortunate individuals whose lives were indirectly stolen by his illicit weapons dealing. There were too many to count, and they were enraged beyond measure, it was the rage he felt after his sister died tenfold. His grip tightened on the indents of the cliff, but the corpses of the slain only rose to grab his arms, waist, shoulders and even his head. Enishi felt the sickly and ghastly touch of rotten flesh against him, and he was too weak to escape. He snappily released his grip as the damned dragged him down into the darkest pits of hell, never to be seen again by mortal eyes._

 _And sister was not smiling._

Enishi, pulled out of the throes of his nightmare, immediately shot up and sat upright in the futon as his eyes darted wide open. He _screamed_ ; sweat drenched his naked body as he instinctually reached out to the darkness in front of him; he hyperventilated as if he were running away from the devil himself. Slowly coming to the realization that it was yet another dream of his, Enishi sighed partly out of relief, but mostly out of frustration. He slammed his clenched fist against his temple, only then noticing the partially dried tears that had rolled down his cheeks. Did he cry during his sleep? Even with most of the fear dissipated, Enishi still felt a twinge of sadness and shame deep in his gut. He slowly breathed out.

"Shit! Not again…" Enishi knew the drill by now; nightmares of unspeakable horror would pull him from his somewhat peaceful sleep, making him unable to go back to sleep for the rest of the night. He was commonly restless these days, even if he got a good amount of sleep with no horrifying nightmares, he would still lack a certain amount of energy for the rest of the day. A fitting punishment really; even if he had problems comfortably sleeping due to his overactive brain over the course of his childhood, his current situation was worse in a way. Well, there was no use in lying back down trying to get some sleep. He groaned deeply and threw the quilt off his lower body.

 _No point fighting it,_ he scolded himself, _the dead will be my companion wherever I go. I have to carry them with me, this is part of my burden._

* * *

Enishi raised the axe over his head before bringing it down with a powerful force, completely splitting the log in front of him into two. Hard work was usually a good way to forget about angst. All the others were having breakfast, and he was given the job of preparing some firewood for the next few days...shouldn't be too difficult, right?

His dream the previous night deeply troubled Enishi…they always did. He couldn't be _completely_ sure, but he had the vaguest suspicion that these nightmares were haunting him more than they used to. They had come to him shortly after he left Rakuninmura, and they wouldn't leave his soul in peace. Sometimes, it was like last night where the dead came from below and attempted to drag him down into the underworld. Other times, he was consumed by an all-powerful inferno as his flesh and bones were scorched to ash. Sometimes the dead raised their swords against him, ready to strike him down without mercy. No matter what happened, the message was clear: Enishi was heavily linked to the souls of all the dead, of those who he had taken from this world. He had stolen many fathers, husbands and sons…not to mention some mothers, wives and daughters. Even he was shocked and disgusted at himself, how he, someone who knew the unbearable pain of losing the only person you love but hundredfold, could cut through countless hearts without even _contemplating_ the hypocrisy and wrongness of his acts.

Back then, in his little bubble of frozen time, his mind only revolved around three things: The unjust death of his sister, his insatiable hunger for vengeance and his endless well of anger. Even now, after living a self-centred lifestyle for so many years, he had some issues with considering any viewpoints other than his own. He was trying though, and gods know how much he was aware of the dissatisfaction of those damned souls tethered to his very being.

He placed another log on the stump. To think it was his former sworn nemesis that pulled him out of this mindset. He brought the axe above his head once more. He couldn't believe that he owed that loathsome red-head some semblance of gratitude. Down it went. But he would never see that man again. Thwack and the wood went into two. He didn't want to see him again, the man that took everything he ever loved and somehow got away with it. Once more, a log on the stump. But didn't Enishi also get away with his sins in a way? The axe rose once more. The police presumed him dead, they stopped their search years ago and he hadn't been suspected by anyone since. The axe descended into an arc. But imprisonment would've been a light punishment compared to the way in which the dead haunted him. The log parted. If only death could fully compensate for his sins.

He threw the axe on the ground before scratching his stubble, that should've been enough firewood for the time being. All he had to do now was wait until the family finished breakfast, then they could continue their renovations for the land.

He sat on the lump and ran his fingers through his messy hair as he glared down at his feet. White hair, but black stubble? He hadn't looked in a mirror recently, but chances are he looked very strange. He wondered why _all_ of his hair hadn't turned white by now…perhaps he'd look better like that. Or maybe not. Enishi was accustomed to hiding his face and hair with a hood, hat or whatever during his travels, driving away any potential unwanted attention from those around him. It's also why he avoided huge settlements and cities like the plague. Whenever someone asked him why his hair was such an odd colour, he just told them he was born with it. Somehow, he had the feeling that they never believed him but just chose not to pry further as to not offend him. Enishi saw his stubble as a reminder of who he used to be, what his life could've been and what he wished it _would've_ been. He was beginning to wonder if there was a time travelling monk that could mend the past. That would be nice.

Enishi, sensing a disturbance, instinctually lifted his head and he gazed upon two strangers staring at him with shock and awe; one was a tidy, energetic-looking stripling, holding the second stranger's shoulder closely. His accomplice was a young woman, with dark brown hair that met her shoulders. Enishi tilted his head to the side slightly, his mouth curving downwards to a subtle frown.

"Hello." Enishi blurted out, trying so hard not to aggravate them.

"...And just who the hell are _you_?" The young man asked agitated, a slight hint of annoyance in his tone.

 _Well, I'm Enishi,_ he murmured in the corners of his mind, _professional bridge burner and all around terrible human being. How do you do?_

Before Enishi could properly answer though, the door of the adjacent house slid open and Hiroshi came rushing out, his arms open and completely parallel. He gave out a jolly laugh as he pulled them into an overwhelming hug. He seemed to be happy to see them again. So these must have been his children that went away. Hiroshi let go of them and turned to Enishi, a warm grin on his ageing face.

"Aha, um….Enishi, these my other two children I was talking about. My son Kiyoshi and my daughter Yukita. Uh…children, this is Enishi…he's working for the family for the time being." Hiroshi let go of them and nervously scratched the back of his head.

Enishi cleared his throat. "An absolute pleasure to meet you."

To be continued...

* * *

 **AN: This story is partially inspired by the Ketil's Farm arc from Vinland Saga. I couldn't help but notice the striking similarities between Thorfinn and Enishi and their quests for revenge since childhood, causing death and destruction along the way. They're both even described as having time stopped for them too, I think. The difference between the two is the former is the hero of the story and the revenge arc is the first part of his story, whilst the latter was a villain in the Jinchuu arc and we don't see what happens to him after the manga (until Hokkaido anyway, whenever that will happen). I also just love the idea of Enishi working on a farm for some reason as well.**

 **The idea also came from the conversation between Kenshin and Kaoru at the end of the Jinchuu arc (ch. 251):  
**

 ** _Kaoru: He himself has also unmistakeably killed people until now. And he's a criminal who even sold weapons of_ massacre _...he wouldn't commit suicide right?_  
 _Kenshin: Right...I think he's alive. Ever since time stopped for him fifteen years ago, he himself didn't realize it. But now that time has started moving once again, it won't be like that. From now on, Enishi will also atone, consulting not with death, but with life. If he doesn't. Tomoe won't smile...if he himself doesn't smile, the Tomoe within him will never smile._  
 _Kaoru: It's difficult, huh..._  
 _Kenshin: But, the true Tomoe is kinder than anyone or anything so she will surely watch over Enishi...she'll watch over him throughout anything._  
**

 **The psychology of revenge in this manga is...pretty scary.**

 **I did some research on farming life during the Meiji era, and it was actually a lot more interesting than I was expecting. I may have taken some liberties for this story, some of the scenarios were probably rare back then. Please bear with me, the farm mainly serves as a backdrop for the story anyway.**


	2. Welcome Home

Chapter 2: Welcome Home

* * *

"An absolute pleasure to meet you…"

The man's words startled Yukita; not so much the words themselves, but who was saying them. Her father had just explained who this mystery person was, but her brain still had issues processing the information. Her older brother's barely concealed agitation – gods know why he was annoyed of all people – didn't help the situation much.

Everything about this man seemed…off. The white hair and the black stubble were no match for each other at all, his shirtless upper body showcased a thin yet well-honed physique, he was clearly used to working so hard. Yet, when she dared to gaze at his eyes, the entryway of the soul, she was immediately taken back. An endless concoction of negative emotions emanated from those eyes, chiefly a hint of bitter sadness. He certainly wasn't a threat, not an obvious one at least, otherwise big brother surely would have taken him out by now. But this man definitely wasn't your average worker.

"Hey," Kiyoshi yelled out, "you work for us, right?! What makes you think you can take that tone with us, hm?!"

She jumped at her brother's assertive tone. "Big brother," she pleaded, "please don't shout like that…"

"Eh-!"

"H-hey, now now..." their father interrupted just in time to prevent their squabbling to devolve into a full-blown argument, "come inside, I'll explain everything. You two must be a bit tired, we have water for tea as well. Enishi! Grab your tools and get to work, please?"

Kiyoshi glanced at the strange white-haired man before looking back at his father and giving a nod of recognition before letting go of his sister's shoulder and retreating into the house with his father. Yukita lingered outside for a moment, surveying the man directly in front of her, the way he slouched over and gazed at the ground before he slapped his knees and rose from the stump. She watched idly as he scooped his tools up from the tall grass and headed for the fields, not sparing a single moment to return her gaze whatsoever as his snow-white bangs cast an ominous shadow over his eyes. She mentally shrugged and turned around, taking strides into the house. She soon found herself sitting down at the table opposite her father, her big brother next to him taking sips from a cup of freshly prepared tea. She took the one directly in front of her and cupped it in her hands, taking periodical sips as he spoke.

"Strange to see you home so early in the morning!"

Before Yukita could even open her mouth, her brother was already speaking.

"We stayed at an inn about two hours away from here last night, it was getting late and Yukita suggested we sleep so we were well rested when we got home…we woke up extra early to get here."

"I see…how have your aunt and uncle been doing?"

"They're doing alright, father," Yukita answered with a clear tone whilst sitting tidily, "they appreciated the help we've given them for the past few months…"

"That's good to hear. Well, in any case, it's great to have both of you back."

"Where is Setsuko?" Yukita inquired. It was unusual for the family maid to be away from home, especially this early in the morning.

"Oh, I asked her to buy some supplies from town, she left just before you two arrived."

"I see."

"Can you please explain the man outside, now?! You didn't think to tell us of him via a letter or something?!" Kiyoshi bitterly snapped at his old man, who nodded and rested his arms on his knees.

"…About two months ago, a little while after you left, that man came to our doorstep. It was the evening, and the rain was absolutely dreadful that day – he was drenched from head to toe. He asked if I needed any help around the farm, to which I said I wasn't hiring anyone new at the moment. He said he'd work for free, he only asked for a place to sleep and enough rice every day to just keep him going. Of course, I could handle that...the rest is history."

"And you just _let_ him in?!" Kiyoshi growled with subdued ferocity, making Yukita widen her eyes at her brother's aggressiveness. "What if he's like…a plant for the mob or something? What if he plans to take the farm from our cold, dead hands? Did you ever think about that, father?"

"He seems like a fellow I can trust and he was offering to work practically for free…how could I resist?"

"You always think with your wallet first, father…he could be dangerous!"

"He's been here for two months brother," Yukita interrupted politely, "If he had any ulterior motives, I'm sure he would've carried them out by now. I think he is right...we're safe. Father, why does he not except payment?"

He smirked at his daughter's question, shaking his head as if he were in disbelief. "Beats me, dear. I even tried to give him some compensation for his deeds and all he did was throw it to the ground. He just won't take anything!"

"How strange…" That man was a growing curiosity; each minute this mysterious worker became a more interesting character to Yukita. Father had hired workers before, he still did when it was a particularly burdensome season, but nothing quite like this had happened before. From the sounds of it, he was akin to a voluntary slave, he was being treated like one at least...voluntarily. How exactly did that work?

She thought Kiyoshi's suspicions were, whilst well-intentioned, slightly ill-warranted. The arrival of a suspicious hard working white-haired man did reek of strangeness, but she saw no danger, no ill-intent in that man's topaz-blue eyes. Instead, she saw someone detached, dejected, apathetic, slightly broken. He hadn't the willpower to harm even a fly.

"Well, I for one don't trust-!"

Kiyoshi was promptly interrupted by an unknown object bashing into Yukita's back at high speed. It wrapped what looked to be arms around her shoulders and buried its head in her back as it screamed "Sister! You're back!"

Yukita turned around to face the one calling for her after they let go; upon seeing the subject of the intrusion she instinctively brought them into an overwhelming bear-hug, using her hand to make waves in their brown messy hair.

"Kensei-kun." She breathed out, relieved to see her little brother again. He leaned into her gentle and warm touch, savouring the moment to the best of his abilities. His necked craned upward as she changed position to hold his cool yet soft cheeks soothingly in her hands, she stared into his delicate brown eyes and gave him a smile. He beamed back at her, a subtle blush rising in his face, before burying his face in her chest and bringing his tiny arms around her again.

It had been like this since their mother passed away so many years ago. He had been left as a little baby boy with no mother, no one to cling to, no one to shower him with the love and affection he so desperately needed. Whether she wanted it to happen or not, she had become the dominant figure in his upbringing, she looked after him when no one else could. In a sense, she had become both a sister and a mother to him. She closed her eyes; she could hear nothing but his gentle breathing against her chest. At that moment, nothing but the two of them existed, their frantically beating hearts almost in perfect harmony together.

She withdrew from their embrace and placed her hands squarely on his shoulders. "How have you been, little brother?"

"Um…I've been okay…b-but I've missed you so much!" He grasped the sleeves of her kimono as she smiled at his childish pining. "It's…been lonely without you."

"Good morning to you too, Kensei." Kiyoshi intruded into the conversation, noticeable irritation in his speech.

Kensei addressed him unenthusiastically."Oh, hello big brother." He quickly turned back to his sister, leaving Kiyoshi speechless.

"But father and Setsuko have been looking after you, right?"

"Mm", he nodded, "but they're so... _boring_. They won't play with me like you do…"

Yukita huffed in amusement and placed a chaste kiss on the crown of his forehead before turning to look back at her father, "Has he been well behaved?"

"He's been fine, he's just missed your company. Please don't be too harsh on him about it, it gets lonely here."

"I see…thank you." She turned back to gaze at her younger brother, who looked back up at her expectedly, a mystical and innocent gleam in his eyes. "I have an idea."

"What is it, sister?"

"Father, is there work to be done?"

"Hmmm," she couldn't see him rub his stubble in thought, "well, there's laundry to be done…Setsuko hasn't gotten around to that, yet. There's quite a lot to be done."

Yukita nodded in response, "Why don't you help me with the laundry, Kensei-kun? It will give us time to catch up?"

"Okay!" He replied giddily and excitedly, jumping to his knees and racing outside.

Yukita dusted herself off before joining him. It was a lovely morning, warm yet a pleasant breeze in the air which softly brushed against the greenery of the farm and her thick, brown hair. The sleeves of her kimono thwacked against her sides as she rolled and tied them up, exposing her elbows. She smiled as she saw her brother run quickly up to her with two buckets. My my, he was getting so strong! She bent down and graciously accepted one of the buckets and both departed for the nearby well…but not before she took a curious glance at the fields. Her eye caught the mysterious white-haired man, this 'Enishi', sparing a glance at both her and her brother, before bending back down to continue digging away with his farming tools. She shook her head and hurried off with her brother to the well.

He merrily skipped along the path as she continuously warned him of the consequences of such complacency. After all, father would be furious if the bucket fell out of his hand and were to be damaged. He gasped and cheered at all the butterflies and exotic shrubbery. Eventually, they found themselves at the well. Yukita drew the water out of the well as Kensei held the buckets in place whilst she carefully filled both to the brink with water. She watched and suppressed a haughty laugh as her little brother's face turned bright red whilst he picked his bucket full of water back up. He pulled a face as if to say he could handle it before he marched onwards, his big sister following closely behind him. Once they reached the farm, they poured the water into a washing basin and mixed it with soap before Yukita went inside to grab the pile of laundry to be done for the day. She went back outside and knelt back over the basin with her brother, brush in hand. They were parallel to the fields, the new[CS1] 'worker' completely visible.

"The new man is kinda weird…" Kensei uttered as he scrubbed one of his father's kimonos. She continued to stare off at him.

"Does he scare you, Kensei-kun?"

"N-no, not really…but why is his hair white? That's not supposed to happen, right? Only old people have white hair! Right?"

"Right...I suppose it's not normal, not for someone that young. But it's best not to pry into people's lives like that, okay?"

"Okay…"

Yet she couldn't help but take a gander at that worker again. He certainly knew his way around farming tools; his body moved with such grace, his hips swinging to draw out maximum power and his hands gripped tightly on the sickle. Particles of soil jumped up into the air and covered the sky and bright yellow sun before descending back down to the earth whence it came. It was a rhythmic dance of agriculture that was being performed by that strange. His snow-white hair was a scrambled unkempt mess that sat atop his head, some of it nearly reached his shoulders. His bangs cast a protective shadow over his eyes, denying entryway into his soul. In that state, it was almost impossible to guess what he was thinking. Just as before, he occasionally looked over to what she and Kensei were doing, before shaking his head and hurriedly going back to agricultural activities.

It must have been nice…to be free, Yukita thought. This man, 'Enishi', could leave whenever he wanted to. He was under no obligation, no binding contract to stay here. If the next morning he felt like he had done enough, he could pack his things and leave. Yukita, on the other hand, had no such luxury. Oh, she loved her brothers, father and even Setsuko dearly, but she couldn't help but feel a hint of isolation. She was now nineteen years old and felt tethered to this farm, her older brother Kiyoshi had been repeatedly teasing her to get a husband already, something which their father agreed with (despite her big brother not even considering courting anyone yet). To leave one life of servitude to enter another…she couldn't fathom making that choice unless it was of her own accord. Plus, she wasn't quite ready to leave yet…she had to take care of Kensei, right?

"…Hey, sis?" A high-pitched voice brought her out of her intense meditations, she immediately went back to scrubbing the rag in her hand before tying it to the laundry line right above their heads. She took another piece of the laundry from the pile and went back to cleaning. He raised an eyebrow at her odd behaviour. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing much," she replied earnestly as she continued to scrub, "your big sister is just thinking about things."

"What things?"

She opened her mouth speak and then paused before closing her eyes in thought. Eventually, she opened them back up and looked down to Kensei, a radiant smile overcoming her lips. "What've you been up to whilst I was away?"

"I made a new friend from the village…"

"That's nice." She patted his head with a wet, sudsy hand. Kensei grimaced and pulled a face as if to say _knock it off_. "Are they nice?"

"Of course, I wouldn't be friends with her otherwise!"

 _Her, is it?_ She grinned wryly at his response. "Looking for a girlfriend already, Kensei-kun? You're still so young, I'd guessed you'd be a stud."

"N-no! I hate girls!" He clenched his fist as his cheeks went rosy red once again.

"So you hate me, then? And Setsuko? And your new friend?"

"Except you two…and I don't like my new friend _because_ she's a girl or anything! Girls are gross..."

Yukita took the rag both of them were wiping and hung it up on the line. Kensei reached over the bucket for another piece of dirty clothing and dumped it into the bucket, his kimono getting splashed slightly by soapy suds.

"Oh, Kensei…" Yukita sighed, "you got your kimono wet."

"It's not that bad!" He protested, pointing at the admittedly trivial amount of water that landed on his light blue garb. "With this heat, it'll dry up in no time!"

"Just be careful next time."

She couldn't help but notice the mysterious white-haired man take a glance at them yet again from across the field. He obviously saw something of interest in their interactions, something which drove him to gaze upon them so intently. But this time his eyes – despite the fact she couldn't see them – lingered on the two of them longer than ever before. His aura wasn't threatening or off-putting, not in the slightest, just slightly odd. As if he was…missing something...

Kensei called out to her. "The man's looking at us…why?"

"I don't know, Kensei-kun. Maybe we're distracting him from his work?"

"Oh…should we be quiet, then?"

"I think it would be best."

"Okay."

Both brother and sister quickly went back to work, precious few words were exchanged after that.

* * *

"What do you think of the new servant, Setsuko?" Yukita asked the family maid curiously, as both scrubbed the plates and bowls left over from dinner.

"Hmm? Oh, the white-haired fellow? I don't really think much of him really. He's hardly a servant as it is."

"What do you mean?"

"Servants _usually_ do get a paycheck, dear. Or at least, compensated adequately for their efforts. This gentleman - Enishi was it? – he doesn't even get given money. He doesn't _want_ money. He's happy to just work and work all day in exchange for the bare necessities so he can keep on working the next day."

"Why do you think he does that?" Yukita's brow narrowed as she contemplated the information she was given. Odd, indeed.

"Who knows? I can't even begin to fathom what goes through the heads of men like that. I say if you're good at something, don't do it for free. And he's _very_ good at helping around the farm. He could lighten up a bit as well. Every time I see him, he's so incredibly gloomy and brooding…he ain't done anything to offend anyone here, he's just…miserable to be around."

"Hmm…I see…"

"Anyway," Setsuko quickly tapped the top of her head with her brush, "you haven't even told me anything about _you_ yet! How have you been?! How's the rest of the family?!"

She glared down at all the dirty dishes."Oh…things have been fine, I guess. Nothing really exciting happened when big brother and I were there…maybe it was because I didn't choose to go there...I had no choice in the matter. If you were to ask me, I would've rather stayed here. Do you ever get that feeling where everyone just tells you what to d-"

The stupidity of her words dawned on her as she blushed intensely, hurrying back to her work. Setsuko began laughing uncontrollably.

"Didn't even need me to tell you how stupid you sound, do I?! Good lord girl, sometimes you need to think before you speak!" She howled whilst patting Yukita's back affectionately. She smiled back at her weakly.

Ever since mother had died giving birth to Kensei, it had been like this. Setsuko made it her personal mission to help in raising Yukita into a fine young woman; it was from the family maid she learnt her manners, to cook, to sew, to clean, to do anything that was required of her. Yukita may have been like a mother to Kensei, but Setsuko…she was everything _she_ could ask for from a mother. Which was adequate, because she was only just over twenty years her senior.

Yukita closed her eyes and took a deep breath before addressing Setsuko once more.

"But you know what I mean right? I'm always told what to do by father and big brother…they want me to get married soon before I become too 'old' to be desirable. 'Before the apple rots', they say. I just…I just…"

"Just what?" She put the brush down and gently placed her hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know...I just want to be able to make my own choices. One day, I want to leave this farm and live life on my own terms…get married on my own terms…you know? Sorry, I'm rambling..." Flustered, Yukita went back to the dishes.

"Don't worry about it, it's only natural. You're young, you've got your whole life ahead of you…just remember that nothing's ever set in stone."

Yukita beamed whilst twirling one of the locks of her hair. "Thanks…"

"Don't worry about it. I'm always here if you need someone to talk to...to vent your frustrations. I used to be just like you in fact-"

"Sister…" A drowsy voice called out, interrupting the conversation. Yukita glanced over her shoulder to see her little brother, donned in a snow-white sleeping gown, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"You're tired?"

He nodded. "Mhm."

"I'll finish the dishes dear," Setsuko reassured her, "there are only a few left, anyway. You tuck him into bed."

Yukita nodded and grabbed one of the blazing candles before gliding over to Kensei, taking his hand and walking with him to his room. When she reached it, she quietly slid the shoji open and her candle lit up all the corners of the small box of a bedroom. He watched as she placed the candle on in the corner and laid the futon on the floor tidily before reaching for a blanket in the nearby chest. When she turned around, he was already laying in his bed, looking up expectedly at her. Yukita knelt over his exhausted form whilst she pulled the extra blanket over him. He hummed pleasantly to himself as he closed his eyes.

"Hey, sister?"

"What is it?" She asked curiously.

"Are you wearing perfume?"

"Yes. Cherry blossoms."

"It…it suits you really well. It's really good to have you back..."

"Thank you. Goodnight, Kensei-kun...sleep well." She bent down and smooched his forehead before standing back up. She took the candle from the floor and closed the door quietly behind herself after taking one last glance at her younger brother. As she walked back to the kitchen, she contemplated what Setsuko had said about this 'Enishi' person.

Both she and father had called him such a hard worker, yet he was barely (if ever) compensated for his efforts. He may not have been the most well-dressed person she had ever met, but the sheer amount of work he had done seemed to be insurmountable, it was admirable. It was he who supposedly ploughed all of the new land so far, and whilst Kiyoshi had lent his hand in helping around the farm again, it was Enishi who still did the most work that day. Maybe big brother was just tired today…maybe.

She recalled the unfathomable misery both she and Setsuko had spotted emanating from that man. Whilst he worked hard, he never outwardly expressed any joy in it. When he had finished his work for the evening, he quietly retreated to the spare storeroom on the opposite side of the farm, disappearing from sight in the blink of an eye. She couldn't help but wonder how lonely he felt…did he have a family out there somewhere? Were they all lost? Is he all alone? Is that why he had been reduced to a voluntary servant? Basically a slave? If that was so, she felt a twinge of pity for that man…maybe that was why he was so melancholy to be around, according to everyone else.

 _To hell with it_ , she thought, _I'm too nice for my own good_. As she found herself in the now empty kitchen – Setsuko must have taken her leave and gone to bed – Yukita reached for a few empty bowls and scooped up some leftovers from dinner. He may not accept payment or even a genuine meal most of the time, but she just couldn't stand to see someone go properly uncompensated for their efforts. It was just intended as a gesture of goodwill; perhaps the stranger would appreciate a good breakfast for once.

She placed the bowls of rice, eggs and cold meats on a tray before heading outside with her candle to cross the farm. Her plan was simple; quietly enter the storeroom as he slept – she had been told that he went to sleep early as he was required to wake up before anyone else – and quietly leave the food for him so he would find a nice surprise for breakfast. Maybe that would help improve his mood? To let him know there were people who were at least slightly concerned with his well-being, even if that gesture was to give him the most basic of subsistencies that people require every day. How pathetic.

She reached the door and sighed deeply before the sounds of wailing and screeching reached her ears. Shocked, she deciphered that the screams were coming from the storeroom. She hastily opened the shoji door and gasped at what she saw. The man was wailing in his sleep! He tossed and turned, hysterically crying out as if someone were plunging a knife into his heart. Hastily placing the tray on the ground, she rushed over to his futon. It seemed like he was calling out to someone…he repeatedly cried out for 'sister'…. his sister? He had a sister? Where was she?

Hesitantly, She knelt beside him as he thrashed around, nudging his side to coax him out of his state.

"S-sister, help! Don't leave me again!"

"H-hey! Enishi-san, are you okay?!" She asked desperately, lightly shaking him by the shoulders. "Please, talk to me! Are you hurt or something?"

" _NO_!"

Sweaty eyelids darted open and she was greeted with wild, topaz-blue eyes partially shielded by snow-white bangs. He immediately shot up and sat upright as Yukita collapsed backwards to sit, propping herself up with her elbow. Sweat flowing down his face, he slowly turned his head to glare at the one who partially pulled him out of the depths of his agony before hastily looking away from her to the ground beneath him, perhaps too ashamed to confront her directly.

Yukita gulped.

"You…you're the old man's daughter, aren't you?" He spat out coarsely.

"Y-yes...hello...are you alright?"

To be continued...

* * *

 **AN: So surprise, there are alternating POVs. The idea is to alternate between each chapter, but things might change if they need to. Enishi only says about two lines in this chapter so if there's anyone disappointed by that, I apologize. I just want to develop the other characters, especially the female OC.**

 **Enishi has a very obsessive personality, it's probably his biggest flaw as a person, so I thought post-manga he'd be completely hopelessly obsessed - at least for a time - with punishing himself and cultivating his own self-destruction, much _much_ more than Kenshin. That's what gave me the idea for his current state. **


End file.
